Unimpressed
by Invisible Pheebs
Summary: It starts out with a bet. As it usually does. The most popular, attractive boy in school has to take that reject to prom and make her beautiful. But, that's going to be harder than expected when that 'reject bitch' isn't impressed with Jackson in the slightest. He'd have to really work for his.
1. Jackson King of the Asshats

**Unimpressed.**

_Unimpressed. Adjective. Not having a favourable opinion._

In a word, that summed up Reese's opinion of Jackson Whitmore. Captain, _Co_-Captain of the lacrosse team. Jackson Whittemore was a lot of things. A pretentious douche bag was one of them. Conceited asshole was another. Smug. Over confident to the point of beyond cocky or even cute. More of a jerk than anything. And currently (this was a new one) he was single. He and Lydia had broken up (again and that was nothing really new) and now he prowled the halls like the ferocious, over sexualised asshat he was. His eyes trailed after anyone, especially If Lydia happened to be watching him. Reese never really understood what the red head saw in Jackson anyway, he was, as previously mentioned, an asshat and well… she could be kind of a bitch. But Lydia was brilliantly smart. She could probably run a mile around anyone else in their school if she ever bothered to show it.

But in hindsight, Reese didn't know anything about them at this point. To her, they were just that couple that everyone knew. The popular, attractive people who got everything and anything they wanted. Who lived in flash houses with fancy cars (who _didn't _know that Jackson drove a Porsche?). The kind of people who'd be the ones shoving her in the halls if they all weren't so afraid of catching 'germs' from her. The kind of people who took one look at her slightly terrible skin, frizzy blonde hair and goth boots and laughed when they thought she was out of earshot. No, they didn't have courtesy to wait until then. Reese Todd would look at those type of people and feel many things. A horrible anger, slowly burning jealousy and eventually sadness. Behind all her tough words and almost scary appearance, Reese was a lot more soft and squishy. When someone deliberately bumped into her, sending her flying to the floor, she felt it. Even if she shrugged it all off and hurled a dozen angry curses at them for doing it. When people watched her, as she had to walk through the school with her head high and act like she didn't feel the weight of people's stares on her, she felt it.

She didn't dress normally. It was her choice, like it had been her choice to not always bother with her hair. But she just wished that people wouldn't stare at her like she was some kind of freak. Like she wasn't some weird punk girl. Like she wasn't just a world away. Reese didn't, in any way, claim to be popular. In fact, she didn't really have any friends. Aside from the other people who had no one to sit with. A reject and she didn't do anything to change that. Always trying to herself that she had to be okay in her own company before she was in anyone else's. Truth was, she wasn't really okay in her own company. But there was an almost iron strength mask that would never let that show to anyone. If she was really, really honest with herself. She was like any other teenager in her school. Save for the werewolves of course, but really Reese didn't know about those either. She wasn't exactly attuned to the supernatural. She had enough going on in her own world.

As always, she stood alone in her locker, switching out her maths books for her English, blonde hair pulled back into a couple of plaits, chunky boots pushing her another few inches off the floor - adding to her average five five height. The tartan skirt she wore was short, but the thick black tights revealed nothing and the dark, mottled grey hoodie hung long over her arms. In fact, it was her older brother's and it was too big for her all around, hanging so low that from behind her skirt was nearly invisible, but Reese cared little for it. As she always said to herself, 'I dress for me'. Her brother wouldn't even really notice it was gone. He'd moved out long ago (that was the story, if anyone asked) and last she saw he was high off of his ass. Reese didn't like to think of that. She was practically done with her locker, as the dull green door slammed shut right before her, narrowly avoiding cutting her fingers clean off. "fuck!" she jumped backwards, lifting a hand to her heart and steely grey eyes narrowed to look at whoever had slammed it for her.

"Ah, good to know I have your attention" That cold, calm voice replied to her. The king of asshattery himself; Jackson Whittemore. Reese's hand lifted to her heart, trying to calm it. She shook her head, blonde mane trembling with the movements.

"What do you want?" She demanded, staring at him - defiant not to crack or bend to anything he said with that stupid voice of his. Her own voice was equally cold and hard, laced with contempt. But Jackson didn't seem to be bothered by that, in fact (much to Reese's disdain) he took it in stride. A cocky smirk was curling over his lips,

"Well, I'm not gonna lie to you. I've been dared to pretty much make anyone who sucks a prom queen in order to spite my girlfriend and they picked you. Because you're a mess. But, you have to agree to it, so what do you say?" he explained, nodding his head a little. Reese had no idea what her expected her to do, but she bit back the tears that threatened to fall (she was always an easy crier), swallowed any rising hitch in her throat and took a breath.

"Okay, I'm not gonna lie either, Jackson. You're pretty attractive. Like, your face could belong on vogue" the teenager nodded, growing more confident as she went on, "And your grades aren't terrible. You have an okay sense of style and you know how to dress yourself. You're Co-captain of the lacrosse team which is doing phenomenally in the tournament." that co captain stung him and Reese could see it. But she pushed on with her point, "But the thing is… you're kind of an asshole, and that isn't impressive or attractive in the slightest" She laughed a little, it was a little bit of an empty laugh and it didn't soften her point. "So… Fuck. You." And Reese walked away, holding her head high as she kept her aging, broken backpack hitting against her side.

Jackson stared on after her, as everyone else passed him and didn't seem to notice how hard those last two sentences stung him. He lived his entire life trying to impress people, and now some reject bitch had the nerve to talk to him like that? And walk away from _him?_ Without him having the last word? "Well screw you! I'm everyone's type!" But somehow, Jackson knew she heard the emptiness behind his words as much as he did.

* * *

Hey there! Pheebs here!

Okay, so i've currently got no idea when this is set. Maybe I'll figure it out later, maybe it's just slightly AU from the canon timeline i don't know. Buuuut, yes i'm guilty of making a Teen Wolf OC. I hope to god Reese doesn't become a Mary Sue (please tell me if she does, just not visciously because y'know, i'm happy to take criticism.) This also WON'T be a Jackson/Oc story. I hope that they'll more or less become bro's or something.

Also, yes this may be slightly (majorly) inspired by cheest ninties movies like "She's all that" and "10 things i hate about you" so forgive me if you don't like cheesy nineties movies crossed with horribly angsty tv shows. Anyway, reviews, would be nice please if you don't mind. Thanks for making it this far!


	2. A free period filled with wisdom

Jackson wasn't used to being rejected. As far as he was aware, he held the entire school in his hand - whether it be down to his money, his 'charm' or his strong good looks. He was popular, he drove a porsche and he even saw the way girls looked at Lydia, wishing that they were on the receiving end of one of his fierce kisses and not her. He watched as even a few boys turned their heads as he walked by. That suited him, because it made him feel strong and worth something. Jackson _was _the best in Beacon Hills and that was how he liked it. He was even predicted to be prom king, and that whole thing was based on votes, so clearly he must to have done something right. He'd never bothered himself with the idea that there was a minority of people who didn't agree with the general consensus. They were all losers anyway, the people who were just too odd to be 'normal'. The weird freaks, and not the werewolf type of freak either. Jackson didn't bother with them, or their opinion, because usually they weren't even worth being on his radar. Their voices were too small and insignificant for him. But now, thanks to Stiles and McCall and Danny, the losers like Reese had been thrust onto his radar and their opinions suddenly _hurt._

But typically, when Jackson got hurt, he got angry. He shrunk back only a little so that he could then burst forward and launch an all out offence against whoever had wronged him. Like he had with the bumbling baboons of Scott and Stiles, making sure to spite them in lacrosse. Like he had with Lydia time and time again - she had shown him up too many times and then he made sure to shift the power to he was on top. Jackson always had to be on top because otherwise, who was really getting screwed? Reese would be no different, Jackson was either going to ruin her into agreeing or he'd prove to her that he was more than what she saw in him. Jackson lived to please and prove himself, and he was going to show her that he was distinctly, _not _an asshole. No, what was the word she used? Ass_hat_, that was the one. Which made little sense anyway, asses didn't even wear hats. Sometimes Jackson was blown away by the students in Beacon Hills - of course he knew McCall's mother did all the grocery shopping, but how the other wolf couldn't get that he was talking about steroids was a true testimony to his intelligence.

Of course, to try to not be an asshole, hat - whatever - he needed to well... change. There wasn't a way in hell that he'd ask Reese what it was she hated about him, because that would be to admit defeat. So he needed someone who was well liked... someone who knew how to be liked, popular. Of course, no one was as popular as he was, but there were a few people who were damn close. Like McCall, but he was beyond busy with not failing this year. Jackson had seen him around, no longer with Allison but he was surprisingly chipper. At least he'd finally got rid of that dorky haircut, who did McCall think he was? The floppy long hair was only really belonging on crappy British boy bands or greasy skaters who'd never heard of shampoo. McCall wasn't either of those, even though he did certainly have many skeletons in his closet, none were so trivial.

Perhaps he could ask Allison, she wasn't totally fake like a lot of people he knew, and wasn't afraid to tell him the truth how it was. Not to mention, she'd probably love a distraction from Scott. Jackson wasn't blind and he'd seen how she looked at him in class, and how she'd try not to think or talk about him when they hung out and then _whoops_ there his name was. Out in the air between them, setting tension and awkwardness that even Stiles could have seen. Not to mention, Allison had vaulted into her decent group of friends and even had Lydia's training ingrained into her, which was a lot like having Lydia's advice just without the red head - strawberry blonde - girl. What wasn't there to love? Since Jackson was doing this to also spite her too, Allison seemed like a good bet. She also wouldn't make him watch the Notebook for 'research'. Jackson only wanted to get Reese to prom in a semi presentable way, not fall for her and then kiss her in the rain.

Kissing in the rain was overrated anyway. It was just cold and clammy, and long hair turned into rats tails and clothes were ruined. Luckily, he had a free period and so did Allison. Jackson sauntered into the library and almost stalked Allison down the trails between the shelves until he stood before her, shoulders back and that grin on his face. The grin that suggested that him being here was a privilege. Allison looked up at him, through her long eyelashes and as usual, his typical cockiness didn't affect her. She'd never been impressed with him either, but Jackson had won her around. He supposed that after having to hunt his sexy kanima ass kind of meant that any fear she'd had for him in human form was gone. Which wasn't really a bad thing. But it also meant that she wouldn't be the kind of girl to throw herself at his feet, and so her chocolate brown eyes locked onto his almost teal blue with an unwavering stare.

Allison was smart, she wasn't going to give him the benefit of asking him what she wanted. She knew he'd hunted her out and now she was going to wait for him to tell her. They stayed like this, locked in their intense, silent showdown for about three minutes before Jackson broke. He groaned softly and looked up, slumping. "Fine, I need your..." he struggled forming the word, lowering his voice until it was barely audible - even by werewolf standards. _"Help." _Allison's eyebrows raised in surprise, her mouth forming into that little 'oh' but it slowly settled in her mind that Jackson Whittemore, had just asked her for help and she was going to savour this moment. Waiting for a few moments, before nodding twice.

"What with? I mean I'm not going to tutor you because I promised Lydia I'd let you crash and burn in all your grades," She explained, but Jackson lifted his hand to silence her, an almost pained look on his face. It was bad enough that he'd had to ask for help, but he didn't want to draw out the experience for even longer. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly and tilted his head down to look at her,

"No. No, not with tutoring. _Please _my grades are some of the best in the year," Jackson shook his head, running a hand through his immaculate hair and not for once caring that it was now messy and slightly ruffled. "You thought i was kind of a dick, didn't you? When we first met" Jackson began, almost barking out his words. Allison looked at him with another wave of shock and shrugged, lifting on shoulder and making her dark waves tremble.

"Well yeah. And not just when we first met... you're still not exactly a 'nice' guy, not like Sco-" Jackson lifted his hand to cover her mouth, cutting out Allison before she could go back to mentioning the awkward alpha in the corner. But he'd gotten his answer and so he waited for her to thin her eyes, before lowering his hand again, allowing her to speak once more. "What's this about? It can't be Lydia because you know that she's fallen hard for you no matter what... so... Oh wait, duh" she shook her head at her own slowness and then looked back up at Jackson above her. "It's Reese, isn't it? You have that stupid bet... and she rejected you, right?" Jackson nodded a little, heaviness weighing on him as the memory of Reese's blunt words rung back through his mind. She was _unimpressed. _

"Yes. She rejected me. Even though i was totally honest and didn't string her along. I mean that's what shoots the guy in the foot in those sodding movies. _Trust me. _Lydia's forced me through enough of them, remember?" Jackson shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. Allison shook her head, almost smiling. Jackson was... clueless as to how to really impress someone who was looking for more than a trophy boy.

"You did also call her a mess. And make her cry. You could have just asked her to prom, or started a conversation with her first. You don't have to be so blunt... i mean when you were trying to use me to get to Scott - yes i know about that - you managed to actually talk to me. What makes Reese any different?" Allison quirked one of her eyebrows, challenging him. Jackson answered without missing a heartbeat,

"She's a freak. And isn't very beautiful or have anything interesting to talk-" Allison cut him off with that intense, bordering on angry, look that she had mastered so well. It must of been an Argent talent, to be able to intimidate people - werewolves with just a glare. Jackson could have ripped her limb from limb but with a look like that he almost felt the roles reversed. The brunette lifted up a single finger, point number one;

"Reese isn't a freak," she lifted up a second finger, point number two, "people are worth more than their looks," and a third finger, point number three, "You've never spoken to her before, unless to push her out of the way in the corridor or make fun of how she dresses. Not to mention Jackson, you think that no one has anything good to say" and she had a point. Jackson nodded subtly, and rolled his eyes. Running his hand through his hair again, which was now just beyond the point of being fixed without all of his products, he looked at Allison once again.

"Alright. So how do i... get her to agree to give me a chance?" He bit out, lowering his voice so that only she could hear him once again. Allison thought for a second, lifting a hand to tuck some hair behind her ear. She sighed softly, signalling a lost inner battle and she nodded.

"Right well... talk to her. Approach her like you did me. _Pretend_ to be interested if you think you can manage it. I'll talk to her too... we sit together in physics and i have that last today. Who knows Jackson, if you try and be nice, you might have to stop trying eventually" She finished and didn't wait for a reaction. Allison walked away, padding softly between the shelves to find some books. She had left Jackson standing alone, lifting his chin as he looked up towards the ceiling and groaned softly. It hadn't been such a bad encounter, but the fact he'd admitted defeat and needed help this early in the bet had irked him. He was Jackson Whittemore, he was practically a legend for pete's sake!


	3. It's raining, it's pouring

By the time physics began, there was a light drizzle falling. By the time it was over, the sky was black and clouds were unleashing all matter of water. There was even hail dropping lightly, but it all felt heavy and wet. The students of Beacon Hills all sprinted from the doors, even Jackson moved with a spring in his step despite his desire to remain cool. The 'prince' of Beacon Hills hadn't had a chance to catch up with Allison, in an attempt to find out how the lesson had gone. He would of offered to drive her home, if it hadn't been for the simple fact that Lydia already had that agreement with her, and he wasn't going to put himself within the Banshee's path if he didn't have to. They weren't going to be on the 'awkward friends' part of their breakup for another two days. He knew that because the routine of their relationship hadn't changed since they were both freshmen. It was a dance laced with bitter sweet kisses and hateful words but in the end, he knew she'd always care about him and Jackson knew that he'd always need her.

So for the mean time, Jackson figured that he'd go home and catch up on homework, so he flung his bag and damp jacket onto the seat next to him, and the engine of his precious Porsche gently purred into life. The rain hammered against the screen, and the whole day just seemed grey. Someone who cared about pathetic fallacy and was sad enough to draw links between things could say it reflected his miserable rejection from Reese. But Jackson wasn't that kind of guy, so instead he put the air conditioning on lightly to stop the windows fogging up and pulled out of the parking lot. He'd be lying, if he said that he didn't try and douse McCall and his stupid bike with that big ass puddle. The water only just managed to lick at his feet, _damn those wolf __reflexes_, Jackson cursed, but thought no more of it. It wasn't worth his time.

And yet, what of our heroine? Well, in this miserating rain she wasn't so lucky. Blonde hair was plastered to her head as she kept walking, goth boots barely keeping her feet dry. Reese walked far enough from the road that cars shouldn't of been able to splash her and douse her further, but so close that she wasn't subjected to the slick wet mud that came if the forest. Reese had never been into the forest before, having never needed to, and she figured that on a wet afternoon such as this one would hardly give her the best introduction. In her head, she kept playing over Jackson's words in her head and then eventually Allison's;

_"So, i heard you spoke to Jackson, earlier" she had prompted softly, looking up from her textbook. Reese looked over at her, eyes still faintly puffy from crying. The disdain in her face was enough to make Allison almost retreat, but she had told Jackson that she'd try to win the blonde around for him, so she wasn't going to let him down just because of some old tears. _

_"He put you up to this, didn't he?" She demanded lightly, looking up at her and then shaking her head. _

_"Well, yeah, but Jackson's really not all that bad, once you get to know him. He can be funny... and caring, not that he'd ever admit it" she pressed on, and Amelia rolled her eyes. The blonde shook her head subtly,_

_"I'm not interested in being a charity case. I know people don't like me, or know me, and I'm okay with that"_

_"But it's not a bet" Allison bit out quickly, the lie passing over her lips before she could control what was going on. She knew that Stiles and.. Scot... had only suggested that Jackson take an interest in Reese because they thought it'd help her be more confident, or happy, and there hadn't really been any mean intention... but it was still a bet. Nonetheless, Allison pushed on, "It's not a bet, Jackson just said it was so that he didn't seem to be so committed. You know how he is"_

_"There is no logical reason for Jackson to take an interest in me, Allison. Not unless he was going to shove me into my lockers or pull on my hair" Reese pressed on, and she shook her head, turning to look back into the textbook and tried to focus on the penetrating ability of gamma radiation. _

_"Just, give him a shot, Reese. What's the worst that could happen?" the brunette made her last plea and turned back to her own work. She expected it to be somewhat a fruitless endeavour._

Reese failed to mention from that point that the worst thing could happen would be she'd end up being publicly humiliated, or exposed to a life that she downright knew she wasn't fit for. Reese was okay with the social construct, and how she was at the bottom of the ladder instead of at the top. She was a very reserved person for many reasons, and Reese knew, _knew_, that she'd rather die than have them revealed.

But walking home in the rain, these thoughts were all she had to keep her occupied - she'd left her ipod at home this morning in the midst of the usual rush. The road she walked upon was deserted, except for the rare car that passed her. No one stopped for her, and no one cared much for this lonely girl walking home alone in the pouring rain. No one, except for the porsche that she hadn't even notice roll up behind her, until it's horn blared loudly and sent her jumping nearly out of her skin.


End file.
